| ACT I SCENE II | A room of state in the same. | |
| | Enter LEONTES, HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS,POLIXENES, CAMILLO, and Attendants | |
| POLIXENES | Nine changes of the watery star hath been | |
| | The shepherd's note since we have left our throne | |
| | Without a burthen: time as long again | |
| | Would be find up, my brother, with our thanks; | 5 |
| | And yet we should, for perpetuity, | |
| | Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher, | |
| | Yet standing in rich place, I multiply | |
| | With one 'We thank you' many thousands moe | |
| | That go before it. | 10 |
| LEONTES | Stay your thanks a while; | |
| | And pay them when you part. | |
| POLIXENES | Sir, that's to-morrow. | |
| | I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance | |
| | Or breed upon our absence; that may blow | 15 |
| | No sneaping winds at home, to make us say | |
| | 'This is put forth too truly:' besides, I have stay'd | |
| | To tire your royalty. | |
| LEONTES | We are tougher, brother, | |
| | Than you can put us to't. | 20 |
| POLIXENES | No longer stay. | |
| LEONTES | One seven-night longer. | |
| POLIXENES | Very sooth, to-morrow. | |
| LEONTES | We'll part the time between's then; and in that | |
| | I'll no gainsaying. | 25 |
| POLIXENES | Press me not, beseech you, so. | |
| | There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the world, | |
| | So soon as yours could win me: so it should now, | |
| | Were there necessity in your request, although | |
| | 'Twere needful I denied it. My affairs | 30 |
| | Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder | |
| | Were in your love a whip to me; my stay | |
| | To you a charge and trouble: to save both, | |
| | Farewell, our brother. | |
| LEONTES | Tongue-tied, our queen? | 35 |
| | speak you. | |
| HERMIONE | I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until | |
| | You have drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir, | |
| | Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure | |
| | All in Bohemia's well; this satisfaction | 40 |
| | The by-gone day proclaim'd: say this to him, | |
| | He's beat from his best ward. | |
| LEONTES | Well said, Hermione. | |
| HERMIONE | To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong: | |
| | But let him say so then, and let him go; | 45 |
| | But let him swear so, and he shall not stay, | |
| | We'll thwack him hence with distaffs. | |
| | Yet of your royal presence I'll adventure | |
| | The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia | |
| | You take my lord, I'll give him my commission | 50 |
| | To let him there a month behind the gest | |
| | Prefix'd for's parting: yet, good deed, Leontes, | |
| | I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind | |
| | What lady-she her lord. You'll stay? | |
| POLIXENES | No, madam. | 55 |
| HERMIONE | Nay, but you will? | |
| POLIXENES | I may not, verily. | |
| HERMIONE | Verily! | |
| | You put me off with limber vows; but I, | |
| | Though you would seek to unsphere the | 60 |
| | stars with oaths, | |
| | Should yet say 'Sir, no going.' Verily, | |
| | You shall not go: a lady's 'Verily' 's | |
| | As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet? | |
| | Force me to keep you as a prisoner, | 65 |
| | Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees | |
| | When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you? | |
| | My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread 'Verily,' | |
| | One of them you shall be. | |
| POLIXENES | Your guest, then, madam: | 70 |
| | To be your prisoner should import offending; | |
| | Which is for me less easy to commit | |
| | Than you to punish. | |
| HERMIONE | Not your gaoler, then, | |
| | But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you | 75 |
| | Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys: | |
| | You were pretty lordings then? | |
| POLIXENES | We were, fair queen, | |
| | Two lads that thought there was no more behind | |
| | But such a day to-morrow as to-day, | 80 |
| | And to be boy eternal. | |
| HERMIONE | Was not my lord | |
| | The verier wag o' the two? | |
| POLIXENES | We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun, | |
| | And bleat the one at the other: what we changed | 85 |
| | Was innocence for innocence; we knew not | |
| | The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd | |
| | That any did. Had we pursued that life, | |
| | And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd | |
| | With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven | 90 |
| | Boldly 'not guilty;' the imposition clear'd | |
| | Hereditary ours. | |
| HERMIONE | By this we gather | |
| | You have tripp'd since. | |
| POLIXENES | O my most sacred lady! | 95 |
| | Temptations have since then been born to's; for | |
| | In those unfledged days was my wife a girl; | |
| | Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes | |
| | Of my young play-fellow. | |
| HERMIONE | Grace to boot! | 100 |
| | Of this make no conclusion, lest you say | |
| | Your queen and I are devils: yet go on; | |
| | The offences we have made you do we'll answer, | |
| | If you first sinn'd with us and that with us | |
| | You did continue fault and that you slipp'd not | 105 |
| | With any but with us. | |
| LEONTES | Is he won yet? | |
| HERMIONE | He'll stay my lord. | |
| LEONTES | At my request he would not. | |
| | Hermione, my dearest, thou never spokest | 110 |
| | To better purpose. | |
| HERMIONE | Never? | |
| LEONTES | Never, but once. | |
| HERMIONE | What! have I twice said well? when was't before? | |
| | I prithee tell me; cram's with praise, and make's | 115 |
| | As fat as tame things: one good deed dying tongueless | |
| | Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. | |
| | Our praises are our wages: you may ride's | |
| | With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere | |
| | With spur we beat an acre. But to the goal: | 120 |
| | My last good deed was to entreat his stay: | |
| | What was my first? it has an elder sister, | |
| | Or I mistake you: O, would her name were Grace! | |
| | But once before I spoke to the purpose: when? | |
| | Nay, let me have't; I long. | 125 |
| LEONTES | Why, that was when | |
| | Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death, | |
| | Ere I could make thee open thy white hand | |
| | And clap thyself my love: then didst thou utter | |
| | 'I am yours for ever.' | 130 |
| HERMIONE | 'Tis grace indeed. | |
| | Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice: | |
| | The one for ever earn'd a royal husband; | |
| | The other for some while a friend. | |
| LEONTES | Aside | |
| | To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods. | 135 |
| | I have tremor cordis on me: my heart dances; | |
| | But not for joy; not joy. This entertainment | |
| | May a free face put on, derive a liberty | |
| | From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom, | |
| | And well become the agent; 't may, I grant; | 140 |
| | But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers, | |
| | As now they are, and making practised smiles, | |
| | As in a looking-glass, and then to sigh, as 'twere | |
| | The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment | |
| | My bosom likes not, nor my brows! Mamillius, | 145 |
| | Art thou my boy? | |
| MAMILLIUS | Ay, my good lord. | |
| LEONTES | I' fecks! | |
| | Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast | |
| | smutch'd thy nose? | 150 |
| | They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain, | |
| | We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain: | |
| | And yet the steer, the heifer and the calf | |
| | Are all call'd neat.--Still virginalling | |
| | Upon his palm!--How now, you wanton calf! | 155 |
| | Art thou my calf? | |
| MAMILLIUS | Yes, if you will, my lord. | |
| LEONTES | Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I have, | |
| | To be full like me: yet they say we are | |
| | Almost as like as eggs; women say so, | 160 |
| | That will say anything but were they false | |
| | As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false | |
| | As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes | |
| | No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true | |
| | To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page, | 165 |
| | Look on me with your welkin eye: sweet villain! | |
| | Most dear'st! my collop! Can thy dam?--may't be?-- | |
| | Affection! thy intention stabs the centre: | |
| | Thou dost make possible things not so held, | |
| | Communicatest with dreams;--how can this be?-- | 170 |
| | With what's unreal thou coactive art, | |
| | And fellow'st nothing: then 'tis very credent | |
| | Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou dost, | |
| | And that beyond commission, and I find it, | |
| | And that to the infection of my brains | 175 |
| | And hardening of my brows. | |
| POLIXENES | What means Sicilia? | |
| HERMIONE | He something seems unsettled. | |
| POLIXENES | How, my lord! | |
| | What cheer? how is't with you, best brother? | 180 |
| HERMIONE | You look as if you held a brow of much distraction | |
| | Are you moved, my lord? | |
| LEONTES | No, in good earnest. | |
| | How sometimes nature will betray its folly, | |
| | Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime | 185 |
| | To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines | |
| | Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil | |
| | Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd, | |
| | In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled, | |
| | Lest it should bite its master, and so prove, | 190 |
| | As ornaments oft do, too dangerous: | |
| | How like, methought, I then was to this kernel, | |
| | This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend, | |
| | Will you take eggs for money? | |
| MAMILLIUS | No, my lord, I'll fight. | 195 |
| LEONTES | You will! why, happy man be's dole! My brother, | |
| | Are you so fond of your young prince as we | |
| | Do seem to be of ours? | |
| POLIXENES | If at home, sir, | |
| | He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter, | 200 |
| | Now my sworn friend and then mine enemy, | |
| | My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all: | |
| | He makes a July's day short as December, | |
| | And with his varying childness cures in me | |
| | Thoughts that would thick my blood. | 205 |
| LEONTES | So stands this squire | |
| | Officed with me: we two will walk, my lord, | |
| | And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione, | |
| | How thou lovest us, show in our brother's welcome; | |
| | Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap: | 210 |
| | Next to thyself and my young rover, he's | |
| | Apparent to my heart. | |
| HERMIONE | If you would seek us, | |
| | We are yours i' the garden: shall's attend you there? | |
| LEONTES | To your own bents dispose you: you'll be found, | 215 |
| | Be you beneath the sky. | |
| | Aside | |
| | I am angling now, | |
| | Though you perceive me not how I give line. | |
| | Go to, go to! | |
| | How she holds up the neb, the bill to him! | 220 |
| | And arms her with the boldness of a wife | |
| | To her allowing husband! | |
| | Exeunt POLIXENES, HERMIONE, and Attendants | |
| | Gone already! | |
| | Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and | |
| | ears a fork'd one! | 225 |
| | Go, play, boy, play: thy mother plays, and I | |
| | Play too, but so disgraced a part, whose issue | |
| | Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour | |
| | Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play. | |
| | There have been, | 230 |
| | Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now; | |
| | And many a man there is, even at this present, | |
| | Now while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm, | |
| | That little thinks she has been sluiced in's absence | |
| | And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by | 235 |
| | Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't | |
| | Whiles other men have gates and those gates open'd, | |
| | As mine, against their will. Should all despair | |
| | That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind | |
| | Would hang themselves. Physic for't there is none; | 240 |
| | It is a bawdy planet, that will strike | |
| | Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it, | |
| | From east, west, north and south: be it concluded, | |
| | No barricado for a belly; know't; | |
| | It will let in and out the enemy | 245 |
| | With bag and baggage: many thousand on's | |
| | Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy! | |
| MAMILLIUS | I am like you, they say. | |
| LEONTES | Why that's some comfort. What, Camillo there? | |
| CAMILLO | Ay, my good lord. | 250 |
| LEONTES | Go play, Mamillius; thou'rt an honest man. | |
| | Exit MAMILLIUS | |
| | Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer. | |
| CAMILLO | You had much ado to make his anchor hold: | |
| | When you cast out, it still came home. | |
| LEONTES | Didst note it? | 255 |
| CAMILLO | He would not stay at your petitions: made | |
| | His business more material. | |
| LEONTES | Didst perceive it? | |
| | Aside | |
| | They're here with me already, whispering, rounding | |
| | 'Sicilia is a so-forth:' 'tis far gone, | 260 |
| | When I shall gust it last. How came't, Camillo, | |
| | That he did stay? | |
| CAMILLO | At the good queen's entreaty. | |
| LEONTES | At the queen's be't: 'good' should be pertinent | |
| | But, so it is, it is not. Was this taken | 265 |
| | By any understanding pate but thine? | |
| | For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in | |
| | More than the common blocks: not noted, is't, | |
| | But of the finer natures? by some severals | |
| | Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes | 270 |
| | Perchance are to this business purblind? say. | |
| CAMILLO | Business, my lord! I think most understand | |
| | Bohemia stays here longer. | |
| LEONTES | Ha! | |
| CAMILLO | Stays here longer. | 275 |
| LEONTES | Ay, but why? | |
| CAMILLO | To satisfy your highness and the entreaties | |
| | Of our most gracious mistress. | |
| LEONTES | Satisfy! | |
| | The entreaties of your mistress! satisfy! | 280 |
| | Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo, | |
| | With all the nearest things to my heart, as well | |
| | My chamber-councils, wherein, priest-like, thou | |
| | Hast cleansed my bosom, I from thee departed | |
| | Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been | 285 |
| | Deceived in thy integrity, deceived | |
| | In that which seems so. | |
| CAMILLO | Be it forbid, my lord! | |
| LEONTES | To bide upon't, thou art not honest, or, | |
| | If thou inclinest that way, thou art a coward, | 290 |
| | Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining | |
| | From course required; or else thou must be counted | |
| | A servant grafted in my serious trust | |
| | And therein negligent; or else a fool | |
| | That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn, | 295 |
| | And takest it all for jest. | |
| CAMILLO | My gracious lord, | |
| | I may be negligent, foolish and fearful; | |
| | In every one of these no man is free, | |
| | But that his negligence, his folly, fear, | 300 |
| | Among the infinite doings of the world, | |
| | Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord, | |
| | If ever I were wilful-negligent, | |
| | It was my folly; if industriously | |
| | I play'd the fool, it was my negligence, | 305 |
| | Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful | |
| | To do a thing, where I the issue doubted, | |
| | Where of the execution did cry out | |
| | Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear | |
| | Which oft infects the wisest: these, my lord, | 310 |
| | Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty | |
| | Is never free of. But, beseech your grace, | |
| | Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass | |
| | By its own visage: if I then deny it, | |
| | 'Tis none of mine. | 315 |
| LEONTES | Ha' not you seen, Camillo,-- | |
| | But that's past doubt, you have, or your eye-glass | |
| | Is thicker than a cuckold's horn,--or heard,-- | |
| | For to a vision so apparent rumour | |
| | Cannot be mute,--or thought,--for cogitation | 320 |
| | Resides not in that man that does not think,-- | |
| | My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess, | |
| | Or else be impudently negative, | |
| | To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say | |
| | My wife's a hobby-horse, deserves a name | 325 |
| | As rank as any flax-wench that puts to | |
| | Before her troth-plight: say't and justify't. | |
| CAMILLO | I would not be a stander-by to hear | |
| | My sovereign mistress clouded so, without | |
| | My present vengeance taken: 'shrew my heart, | 330 |
| | You never spoke what did become you less | |
| | Than this; which to reiterate were sin | |
| | As deep as that, though true. | |
| LEONTES | Is whispering nothing? | |
| | Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses? | 335 |
| | Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career | |
| | Of laughing with a sigh?--a note infallible | |
| | Of breaking honesty--horsing foot on foot? | |
| | Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift? | |
| | Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes | 340 |
| | Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only, | |
| | That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing? | |
| | Why, then the world and all that's in't is nothing; | |
| | The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing; | |
| | My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings, | 345 |
| | If this be nothing. | |
| CAMILLO | Good my lord, be cured | |
| | Of this diseased opinion, and betimes; | |
| | For 'tis most dangerous. | |
| LEONTES | Say it be, 'tis true. | 350 |
| CAMILLO | No, no, my lord. | |
| LEONTES | It is; you lie, you lie: | |
| | I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee, | |
| | Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave, | |
| | Or else a hovering temporizer, that | 355 |
| | Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil, | |
| | Inclining to them both: were my wife's liver | |
| | Infected as her life, she would not live | |
| | The running of one glass. | |
| CAMILLO | Who does infect her? | 360 |
| LEONTES | Why, he that wears her like a medal, hanging | |
| | About his neck, Bohemia: who, if I | |
| | Had servants true about me, that bare eyes | |
| | To see alike mine honour as their profits, | |
| | Their own particular thrifts, they would do that | 365 |
| | Which should undo more doing: ay, and thou, | |
| | His cupbearer,--whom I from meaner form | |
| | Have benched and reared to worship, who mayst see | |
| | Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven, | |
| | How I am galled,--mightst bespice a cup, | 370 |
| | To give mine enemy a lasting wink; | |
| | Which draught to me were cordial. | |
| CAMILLO | Sir, my lord, | |
| | I could do this, and that with no rash potion, | |
| | But with a lingering dram that should not work | 375 |
| | Maliciously like poison: but I cannot | |
| | Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress, | |
| | So sovereignly being honourable. | |
| | I have loved thee,-- | |
| LEONTES | Make that thy question, and go rot! | 380 |
| | Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled, | |
| | To appoint myself in this vexation, sully | |
| | The purity and whiteness of my sheets, | |
| | Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted | |
| | Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps, | 385 |
| | Give scandal to the blood o' the prince my son, | |
| | Who I do think is mine and love as mine, | |
| | Without ripe moving to't? Would I do this? | |
| | Could man so blench? | |
| CAMILLO | I must believe you, sir: | 390 |
| | I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't; | |
| | Provided that, when he's removed, your highness | |
| | Will take again your queen as yours at first, | |
| | Even for your son's sake; and thereby for sealing | |
| | The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms | 395 |
| | Known and allied to yours. | |
| LEONTES | Thou dost advise me | |
| | Even so as I mine own course have set down: | |
| | I'll give no blemish to her honour, none. | |
| CAMILLO | My lord, | 400 |
| | Go then; and with a countenance as clear | |
| | As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia | |
| | And with your queen. I am his cupbearer: | |
| | If from me he have wholesome beverage, | |
| | Account me not your servant. | 405 |
| LEONTES | This is all: | |
| | Do't and thou hast the one half of my heart; | |
| | Do't not, thou split'st thine own. | |
| CAMILLO | I'll do't, my lord. | |
| LEONTES | I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised me. | 410 |
| | Exit | |
| CAMILLO | O miserable lady! But, for me, | |
| | What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner | |
| | Of good Polixenes; and my ground to do't | |
| | Is the obedience to a master, one | |
| | Who in rebellion with himself will have | 415 |
| | All that are his so too. To do this deed, | |
| | Promotion follows. If I could find example | |
| | Of thousands that had struck anointed kings | |
| | And flourish'd after, I'ld not do't; but since | |
| | Nor brass nor stone nor parchment bears not one, | 420 |
| | Let villany itself forswear't. I must | |
| | Forsake the court: to do't, or no, is certain | |
| | To me a break-neck. Happy star, reign now! | |
| | Here comes Bohemia. | |
| | Re-enter POLIXENES | |
| POLIXENES | This is strange: methinks | 425 |
| | My favour here begins to warp. Not speak? | |
| | Good day, Camillo. | |
| CAMILLO | Hail, most royal sir! | |
| POLIXENES | What is the news i' the court? | |
| CAMILLO | None rare, my lord. | 430 |
| POLIXENES | The king hath on him such a countenance | |
| | As he had lost some province and a region | |
| | Loved as he loves himself: even now I met him | |
| | With customary compliment; when he, | |
| | Wafting his eyes to the contrary and falling | 435 |
| | A lip of much contempt, speeds from me and | |
| | So leaves me to consider what is breeding | |
| | That changeth thus his manners. | |
| CAMILLO | I dare not know, my lord. | |
| POLIXENES | How! dare not! do not. Do you know, and dare not? | 440 |
| | Be intelligent to me: 'tis thereabouts; | |
| | For, to yourself, what you do know, you must. | |
| | And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo, | |
| | Your changed complexions are to me a mirror | |
| | Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be | 445 |
| | A party in this alteration, finding | |
| | Myself thus alter'd with 't. | |
| CAMILLO | There is a sickness | |
| | Which puts some of us in distemper, but | |
| | I cannot name the disease; and it is caught | 450 |
| | Of you that yet are well. | |
| POLIXENES | How! caught of me! | |
| | Make me not sighted like the basilisk: | |
| | I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the better | |
| | By my regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo,-- | 455 |
| | As you are certainly a gentleman, thereto | |
| | Clerk-like experienced, which no less adorns | |
| | Our gentry than our parents' noble names, | |
| | In whose success we are gentle,--I beseech you, | |
| | If you know aught which does behove my knowledge | 460 |
| | Thereof to be inform'd, imprison't not | |
| | In ignorant concealment. | |
| CAMILLO | I may not answer. | |
| POLIXENES | A sickness caught of me, and yet I well! | |
| | I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, Camillo, | 465 |
| | I conjure thee, by all the parts of man | |
| | Which honour does acknowledge, whereof the least | |
| | Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare | |
| | What incidency thou dost guess of harm | |
| | Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near; | 470 |
| | Which way to be prevented, if to be; | |
| | If not, how best to bear it. | |
| CAMILLO | Sir, I will tell you; | |
| | Since I am charged in honour and by him | |
| | That I think honourable: therefore mark my counsel, | 475 |
| | Which must be even as swiftly follow'd as | |
| | I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me | |
| | Cry lost, and so good night! | |
| POLIXENES | On, good Camillo. | |
| CAMILLO | I am appointed him to murder you. | 480 |
| POLIXENES | By whom, Camillo? | |
| CAMILLO | By the king. | |
| POLIXENES | For what? | |
| CAMILLO | He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears, | |
| | As he had seen't or been an instrument | 485 |
| | To vice you to't, that you have touch'd his queen | |
| | Forbiddenly. | |
| POLIXENES | O, then my best blood turn | |
| | To an infected jelly and my name | |
| | Be yoked with his that did betray the Best! | 490 |
| | Turn then my freshest reputation to | |
| | A savour that may strike the dullest nostril | |
| | Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn'd, | |
| | Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection | |
| | That e'er was heard or read! | 495 |
| CAMILLO | Swear his thought over | |
| | By each particular star in heaven and | |
| | By all their influences, you may as well | |
| | Forbid the sea for to obey the moon | |
| | As or by oath remove or counsel shake | 500 |
| | The fabric of his folly, whose foundation | |
| | Is piled upon his faith and will continue | |
| | The standing of his body. | |
| POLIXENES | How should this grow? | |
| CAMILLO | I know not: but I am sure 'tis safer to | 505 |
| | Avoid what's grown than question how 'tis born. | |
| | If therefore you dare trust my honesty, | |
| | That lies enclosed in this trunk which you | |
| | Shall bear along impawn'd, away to-night! | |
| | Your followers I will whisper to the business, | 510 |
| | And will by twos and threes at several posterns | |
| | Clear them o' the city. For myself, I'll put | |
| | My fortunes to your service, which are here | |
| | By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain; | |
| | For, by the honour of my parents, I | 515 |
| | Have utter'd truth: which if you seek to prove, | |
| | I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer | |
| | Than one condemn'd by the king's own mouth, thereon | |
| | His execution sworn. | |
| POLIXENES | I do believe thee: | 520 |
| | I saw his heart in 's face. Give me thy hand: | |
| | Be pilot to me and thy places shall | |
| | Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready and | |
| | My people did expect my hence departure | |
| | Two days ago. This jealousy | 525 |
| | Is for a precious creature: as she's rare, | |
| | Must it be great, and as his person's mighty, | |
| | Must it be violent, and as he does conceive | |
| | He is dishonour'd by a man which ever | |
| | Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must | 530 |
| | In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me: | |
| | Good expedition be my friend, and comfort | |
| | The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing | |
| | Of his ill-ta'en suspicion! Come, Camillo; | |
| | I will respect thee as a father if | 535 |
| | Thou bear'st my life off hence: let us avoid. | |
| CAMILLO | It is in mine authority to command | |
| | The keys of all the posterns: please your highness | |
| | To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away. | |
| | Exeunt | |